


My Logical Liaison

by UnrealRomance



Series: Modern Girls in Star Trek [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: All universes, Star Trek: Alternate universe with elements of other universes
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - There is no Canon here. Only my own re-imaginings, Characters are themselves but with original flavorings to make them my own, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, Minors DNI, Minors do not interact, Modern Girl in Star Trek, Slow Burn Romance, Weird things are happening, that even the main character can't explain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-02-21 23:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22872526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: A woman suddenly wakes up in the medbay on the Enterprise, uncertain of what to do next. She knows nothing that's going on because everything is different here, so there isn't the usual dilemma of whether or not to get involved with canon events because there ARE no canon events.And if that's the case, what the hell is there to even do here!?
Relationships: Spock/Original Female Character
Series: Modern Girls in Star Trek [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644175
Comments: 27
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cox just shut off the internet we were using from the last people to live here so I guess we wait till they can switch it back on for us or get someone else. Hotspotting off my phone for the moment...

At first, I was sure I was in a hospital.

I mean, it had all the hallmarks.

Slight smell of antiseptic- though it was covered by this weirdly floral scent that also happened to smell very…clean, somehow…

Stiff but oddly soft sheets made me think…well, maybe it's a very well-funded hospital. And when I opened my eyes and had to cringe back into bed and clench them shut again- I thought, yeah, those are hospital lights alright.

But slowly I started to notice…other…things.

Like how there were a lot of people moving around. Talking about things that didn't really exist. Like…a tricorder. A comm badge. And other really confusing things with words that I could barely remember, connected to them.

It was like a…cosplay hospital?

And that's when my brains _really_ stopped working.

I saw people with haircuts so different from my own society's fashions that it actually kind of made me freak out a little.

There were no beehives, bobs, layered haircuts…

Instead there was a clash of differing styles on differing kinds of people.

The aliens weren't even the strangest people in the room, really. They were strange, unbelievable…but it's the humans that shocked me.

All inhumanly beautiful- but in different ways. There was no symmetrical standard of beauty shared among them, and they didn't all look the same. Even the Aliens were pleasing to my eyes, and that's strange considering there were at least three or four different species in the room with me when I woke up.

…though of course that could be attributed to me being attracted to non-human beings to begin with.

One was blonde, blue eyed- with a slim build and generous hips. But she smiled and her teeth were sharp and thin- her eyes glowed and her skeletal structure was…different. I'm pretty sure she had an extra set of arms wrapped around her waist- thin and bony, whereas the other pair were more muscular and prominent. More like how I expected arms to be.

Another had pure black hair cut into these…asymmetric lines…and when she turned, I saw that her ears were pointed.

Or well, no. Not ears, really. More like…

God, what do you call it when someone has growths springing from the sides of their head- in the same general shape as ears, but not quite the same?

It wasn't like the Vorta from Deep Space Nine, but similar enough that I had trouble figuring out they were a Vulcan.

See, Vulcans…don't look exactly like humans with pointy ears, apparently.

No, they look like humanoid creatures with ear-like growths, very precise haircuts- and large, expressive eyes. And their lips and jaw…there was…something about them. Something much less pronounced than a human mouth and jaw.

Almost like they were about to disappear at any moment, through some stroke of serendipitous mutation.

And I don't even wanna get started on the hairless aliens with antennae and tails…

It was like I'd just woken up, in a universe I don't remember living in- like I'd slipped into a self that had existed here, but whom I couldn't remember.

And then the really confusing shit started to go down.

The Aliens would gossip about stuff that sounded vaguely familiar, but also wholly alien. The Federation, the Klingons, other stuff like that…

But then they also spoke of the Eveti Systems Alliance and the Vectua Demesne…and…

I realized I didn't know what was going on as well as I _should_ have for a dream that was meant to cater to my likes, dislikes and needs or…something.

If this were a hallucination or a dream, it'd be using composites of my own knowledge. But…this vision was making shit up. And that doesn't happen.

At least not to me.

The Vulcans didn't look like Vulcans, the other aliens were unfamiliar…I didn't know how to make heads or tails of it all.

And now, I'm staring at a man that shouldn't exist.

"Administer some tetrovaline- but give him a dosage of that allergy medication again- he's recovering too slowly, I wanna speed it up before his immune response has a change of heart and decides to go supernova." He walks down the line of patients until he reaches my bed and stops to address me while still staring at the PADD in his hand. "Hey there, you're awake."

Then he lowers the PADD and looks at me.

I didn't recognize his face. I only knew who he was because…well…his personality was so obviously _Leonard Mccoy_ that my hindbrain sat up and took notice of it.

It wasn't just the words and how he said them, but how he walked. The way he carried himself. The look in his eyes.

"Name, Rank- you know the drill," he says.

When I stay silent, simply staring at him, he actually gives me a longer look.

"Or maybe you don't. Can you respond to me at all?" he asks.

I swallow.

"Good, that's good," he says. "Now blink for me?"

I try but my eyelids only shudder- and then eventually blink on their own.

He sighs. "Looks like you might be in shock. Don't worry, I've got somebody who can take care of ya."

And then he turns and I know he's leaving.

My hand lashes out before I can think and latches onto his wrist.

It's not a strong grip. Matter of fact, my hand almost falls off his wrist before he catches it up and squeezes it. "Okay, you want something. Or wanna say something. Do you think you could write it down?"

I stare at him and then look around- eyes darting everywhere for something I can do, or use to communicate.

My body won't obey me. I can only move instinctively- and my eyes are just…all I've got.

So I look until I see the comm badge on his uniform. And I stare there.

"Something about my comm badge?" he asks and reaches up to tap it. "Who am I calling?"

They shouldn't have those yet…or at least they didn't in the show. They had to use these…boxy communicator things.

I guess lots of things are different here.

"Okay, I'm gonna run through a list of departments, you let me know if I hit the one, alright?" he says.

I glance up at him and then back to the comm badge, it's all I can do.

"Let's start from the top and work our way down. Command," he says.

I glance up at him.

"Oh really? First one on the list, that's good. Not many officers on this ship in command positions compared to the rest of the crew," he notes. "Again, top down….Captain?"

My eyes stay on him.

"How did I know, you were gonna say that?" he jokes.

I don't know what else I can possibly do, except…find James Kirk, if he exists…and try to survive whatever the fuck is going on.

In the meantime, I'd like my voicebox to start working again, please.


	2. James T. Kirk POV

The first time I went to med-bay to see her, she was nearly catatonic.

Bones said she was in shock- so I tried to set another meeting, for when she felt better. But she reached out and grabbed hold of me and even fell on the ground a little as she lunged at me.

My security officers were alarmed, but I waved them off and kneeled down to explain to her that I would come back, she wasn't going to be alone- and that I would listen to everything she had to say when she could talk again.

Bones said she might not even understand what I was saying and if she did, she might forget it after I left.

That doesn't mean I can't try, and he didn't try to stop me. Eventually, we got her down in bed again, but you could see, in her eyes…she was frantic.

"Mr. Spock, Jane Doe in medbay is coming out of shock and wants a meeting with me, you have the conn," I inform my first officer before turning my captain's chair and getting out of it.

"Captain," Spock walks up to me as I'm getting into the turbolift. "I am afraid I must insist on coming with you."

I raise an eyebrow and give him a cursory look. He doesn't _seem_ eager, but something tells me there's some kind of energy about him. Something instinctive in me just… _recognizes_ it.

"Oh?" I ask.

"I will be able to explain why on the way to medbay, sir," he says.

"Mr Sulu, you have the Conn," I inform Lieutenant Sulu.

"Yes sir," he responds, making his way over to the captain's seat.

Spock, meanwhile, edges onto the turbolift with me.

"So," I begin as the doors close. "You were going to explain?"

"I can only explain that I cannot explain," he replies. "I am not certain how far the order goes, but I am quite sure even implying that I am not allowed to talk about it, may be grounds for court-martial. Sir."

I stare at him for a moment until he turns his head to look at me. "Is this going to endanger my crewmen, Mr. Spock?"

"No, Captain," Spock replies. "That is the one thing I can assure you of."

I nod and return to staring at the turbolift doors, awaiting their opening. "Then that's all I need to know."

The doors open when we hit our destination and we walk off the lift together in perfect synchronization.

Have to lengthen and shorten my stride at odd intervals to keep Spock from doing that, but he always gets that first step.

I know Vulcans aren't _supposed_ to be smug, but I could swear my first officer must be one of a kind.

We step into medbay at the same moment, but not with synchronized footsteps and I consider that a small victory.

The woman is sitting up in her bed again, looking a little ill, but otherwise fine. Alert.

"Hello!" I greet her with a smile. "James T. Kirk, Starfleet. Captain of-"

"The USS Enterprise," she cuts me off. "I know. That's what we need to talk about. Alone, preferably- somewhere secure?"

An intelligence agent, maybe? Even the best trained agents can have trauma, after all. She might've gone into shock no matter what training she'd had in the past.

So I nod. "Mr. Spock insisted on coming with me, do you mind if he is also there?"

Her eyes flick to my side and stay there for a minute- like she's memorizing his face or looking for something. Then come back to me. "He can come, too." But she murmurs it, so softly. I barely hear her.

"Then we'll await you in my quarters, where Doctor McCoy can set you up on my bed with the transporter and monitor your vitals remotely." Using my ready-room or the conference room…well, she wouldn't be able to lie back. And she looks, very weak.

"Right, I'll have her up in ten minutes, Captain," Bones informs me. "Then when you're done, I'm getting her right back here, until I'm sure there's absolutely nothing wrong with her. For some reason, even though I can't find evidence of any injuries or illness…" He trails off and comes over to stand where she can just flick her eyes over to see him. "I'm certain this is only psychological, but other doctors have been wrong about that since the beginning of medicine. So I'm going to look after you till you get better."

She nods slowly.

I turn about and Spock with me, that one step in sync again before I can alter up my stepping pattern in a way that seems smooth.

He glances aside at me and me at him. He raises a single eyebrow as we walk out of the medbay and down the hallway.

Probably just wants to let me know he knows what's happening here and I don't. Like I said, one of a kind.

We look away from each other.

"I just wanna know one thing, here," I say as we approach the turbolift. "Is this meeting for you or for me?"

He steps into it beside me and inclines his head. "You picked up on her odd appraisal of me, Captain."

"Yeah, what was that about?" I ask.

Shaking his head, his brows furrow. "I honestly do not know, Captain. To my knowledge, we have never met."

So he was told to expect someone, but he didn't know who they would be? Strange. Not so strange if it's Starfleet Intelligence, but…

"She didn't seem like an Intelligence Agent," I mention as the turbolift stops on the floor with the Officer's quarters.

"To my knowledge, she is not," Spock replies.

We step into the hallway, with synchronized steps and I allow it to go on for at least five of them. Almost like I can read his mind if we're in sync _enough._

When we get to my quarters and the door reads my genetic signature and opens…

She's kneeling on my floor before the bookcase, just…staring at the titles on display.

We quietly enter and stand behind her, watching.

"I don't recognize a lot of these books," she says softly. "Some of them, I do. I'm guessing most of it is classic literature of some kind?"

"That it is," I say and walk over to kneel next to her. "Now, what was it you wished to discuss with me?"

"I want to propose a very unlikely scenario, to you," she says. Still staring at the books. "Are any of these books about slipping between universes?"

I glance over the titles and pull one out, handing it to her. "This one is."

"What's the character's name? The one who does it?" she asks.

"Mica Hardwell," I reply.

She looks up at me. "Then consider me Mica Hardwell."

I look back at her for a few moments and incline my head. "I see…and where is your…book?"

"You're the book," she says in a hoarse voice. "I'm the reader."

…well. That should be interesting, shouldn't it?

I glance back at Mr. Spock. He seems as surprised as I am. It's all in that slight twitch around his eyes. Vulcan eyes aren't necessarily _easy_ to read, but they are _slightly_ larger than human eyes and therefore it tends to be easier to read _them_ than any other facial feature.

Surprise, definitely. So this classified information doesn't go far. He's as in the dark as I am- he only knows it's something that should be treated with delicacy and precision. That shouldn't be talked about.

So we won't.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sound of mind and body- enough to be a Civilian Ensign anyway," Doctor McCoy remarks as I smooth down my new uniform. "And only so long as you keep taking your treatments."

I give him a look. "Mental illness doesn't make you mentally unsound, it just makes it harder for you to live your life."

"Some mental illnesses cause you to see things that aren't there," he says. "And you've got all the symptoms pointing to multiple that have been known to cause hallucinations. So long as you take those treatments, you won't have to worry about it, but if you don't…well, we can't have you working on the ship if you don't. I'll leave it at that."

Sighing, I crack my knuckles, my neck and my back.

McCoy looks at me like I just shot his dog. "Oh don't you start doing _that_."

"There's no real health risk," I reply. "It just pops out the air pockets, doesn't it?"

"Nitrogen bubbles," he says. "That doesn't mean it isn't _really_ annoying to listen to."

"Doctor," and there's Spock. Walking in through the doors.

Looking so familiarly alien that it kind of makes my spine shiver.

…that may also be because he's my favorite and is still drop-dead gorgeous in this universe even if he also happens to have a few…alien features.

The biggest difference is that his skin is a very pale shade- but with red undertones instead of green like everyone expected back in my universe.

Vulcans are warm blooded and therefore have red blood, I guess?

I have no fucking idea, and I hope I never find out because I think alien Physiology is going to be the single most complicated thing I could ever learn and I would probably forget everything I know about anything else just to make room for it.

"Your new assistant is ready for duty," Doctor McCoy says. "I can't believe Jim approved this." He walks over to pick up his medical Tricorder- which looks a lot different from how they look in the show.

It's basically a flat pad, like the PADDs but it has this little scanner thing on the topmost lip facing outward to scan whatever's in front of it.

Everything is sleeker here, than it was in the shows. But it's still the same basic stuff. Just presented differently.

I'm still half-convinced this is a dream.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" I ask. "I know I'm not qualified for any job on the ship, which is why I'm just a glorified go-fer. How is it I can't even be qualified for _that_?"

"Oh it's not about that," he says. "I just can't believe Jim is subjecting some poor, nice girl to the cold shoulder of our resident Vulcan science officer."

"Doctor, I will be-"

"He's not _cold-_ "

We both look at each other and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

I feel a little embarrassed at how I jumped to his defense. "What? You're not. You're Vulcan, you have super-emotions."

He slowly turns to Doctor McCoy and gives him an expectant look.

"What? I didn't tell her that," Doctor McCoy says. "It's not my fault she doesn't have the same low expectations for socializing with you as everyone else does."

"I don't have expectations, I just know the difference between not showing emotion and showing emotion in a way other people don't recognize," I reply. "Can we go now? I'm so bored I could die."

"You will accompany me on my rounds and follow orders as given," he says. "Do you understand the nature of your tasks and position?"

"Do as you say and stay away from the panels on the ship that have glowy buttons on them because I might accidentally activate the self-destruct or something," I reply.

His brow quirks again, "that is not possible. However, I believe you are using hyperbole to make a point, so…yes."

"I'm not gonna be expected to do anything by anybody else, am I?" I ask.

"There may be occasion where you could assist someone, but they would need to ask me for permission to use you," Spock replies.

"Don't give it," I reply. "I'm easily frustrated by people who don't understand how to explain things to me. I have a feeling it'd be easier with you, because you're so logical- but most humans back home that I talked to didn't know how to instruct me. So I just came to resent authority altogether."

"Makes sense," Doctor McCoy comments as he walks over with a PADD in hand. He gives it to me as he goes on. "Humans crave some kind of structure, the only reason we resent it is if it's applied badly."

"I would reassure you that Starfleet officers are far better suited to giving you orders than your former employers or family members," Spock says. "If you are more reassured by the presence of a Vulcan, I could give permission only to Vulcan officers to order you."

"I'd prefer it was just you, but if there's a situation or whatever, hand me off to the person most like you on the ship, I guess," I reply. "What's this for?" I ask McCoy before he can walk away. Holding up the PADD he handed me.

He glances at Spock and then back to me. "It's your PADD. For your own personal use. You're going to need it, trust me." And then he walks off.

Holy shit, I just got handed the equivalent of a laptop. For free!

"You seem upset," Spock mentions. "Is there something wrong with your PADD?"

"I don't know how to use it," comes blurting out of my mouth. Quietly enough that the Doctor on the far side of the room didn't hear, but…

Spock nods, rolling with that suspiciously easily. "I will instruct you in its usage as you follow me today. Come."

He turns and walks out of med-bay, and I follow along behind him. Trying to match his strides and failing. He has long fucking legs, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys really like my nonhuman/human romance stories and you think you'd like it even in an original universe context rather than fanfic, you can go to my blog on Tumblr and find my patreon link in the sidebar. I post a new draft chapter of Separation and Supposition there every saturday now. And on wednesays I decided to publish some writing advice and stuff like that.
> 
> Separation and Supposition is alien/human so if you're into that kind of thing, you might like it!
> 
> Here's my Tumblr:
> 
> Unrealromance.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

Working on the Enterprise is exciting and dull in equal measures.

If you're not one of the higher ups, I'd imagine the life-threatening situations just seem terrifying instead of thrilling. Seeing as we haven't been in one since I've gotten here, I wouldn't know.

But considering I'm from a universe in which aliens don't actually exist, or at least- we haven't discovered any- everything is a little bit fantastical.

I'll run into a new species and have to scan them with my padd, study up on them- the basic beats of their culture and whatnot. Make little notations in my notes area to remember for later. And then I'll find a totally new one _again_ and repeat the process.

All while doing totally mundane grunt work that kinda grinds me down.

I think Spock actually noticed after a while that my energy was flagging because a few days into it, he started paying closer attention to me.

Don't know how the hell he's so good at reading people when he refuses to embrace emotion in most of the shows and movies I've seen him in but, he seems to be good enough to figure out something's up with me, at least.

That's probably how he even got this idea.

"It's a class?" I ask curiously as we come upon one of the kid's classrooms in the learning wing of the Enterprise. "Am I helping the teacher or…?"

"No," he replies. "You will be learning. You have no experience with our technology. This will change that."

"A computing class?" I ask, actually a little excited. "Will I learn to code?"

"This is specifically a class meant to teach the basics of holocoding," he says. Then looks down at me from where he kinda looms over me to my right. "I have noticed that you took an interest in the holodeck. It is a complex skill to learn, but there is software that makes it easier. You will learn to use it here."

Can't really help how bursting at the seams _excited_ I am, but I try to rein it in, for him if nothing else. He seems kinda discomfited by other people showing big displays of emotion.

"What's the Vulcan equivalent of a grateful handshake or hug or shoulder squeeze or something?" I ask.

He quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head at me. Large black eyes taking me in. "Squeezing one's shoulder in Vulcan culture would imply closeness. I would suggest patting."

The delivery is just so damn deadpan, it's-

I lift my hand and pat his shoulder once. "Thank you."

He dips his head and turns around, leaving me to my new class.

And I turn around to look inside with my insides all twisted up in anxiety and enthusiasm. I never try to show _exactly_ how I'm feeling to people around me unless we're close, but I have such an urge to jump and pump my fist, it's nearly uncontrollable.

There's at least six different species in this class _alone_ and none of them are human. Even the Teacher is Vulcan.

So I take out my padd, I scan them and I pull up my notes on each one. I find a new one and pull up a few sites with information, before noting everything I need to know, down.

I don't only ever check just one resource. Even if it's the database for Starfleet. I check their own websites and explanations of things and try to note down the context of the stuff that's kinda lacking in the database.

It takes a few minutes but by the time the Teacher comes over to ask me if I'm going to come in, I've got it all down and I've found the common denominator here.

Each of these species values some kind of self-control. Probably why they were grouped with a Vulcan instructor.

That's why the kids are all so well behaved when I walk in and sit with them at a table with a strange tablet on it in front of me.

"Everyone pick up your holopads and follow my instructions exactly," the Instructor intones.

She's a very light pink with undertones of earthy brown and bright yellow? It's like a human skin color, inverted.

Beautiful, with an asymmetrical haircut like most of the Vulcans on this ship. From what I understand of Vulcan culture, it signifies someone who is dedicated to emotional control, but not someone who aspires to _Kolinahr_.

The reason Spock's hair is perfectly symmetrical in that sweeping shape where it dips down in a point in the center of his forehead is because he's training in _Kolinahr_. When he finally finishes his training, he'll be able to grow the hair slightly longer and do another point in the back. To be perfectly balanced.

That's another difference between Spock and other Vulcans, though. Their hair is more like fur. But since he's half-human, he takes after his mother in that way. Funny, cause he got mostly his dad's Vulcan everything-else.

The instructor leads us in an exercise meant to teach us to use the interface, but I have to ask for help three times because I don't know the words she's using.

"Have you never used an interface before?" she asks. Totally free of judgment, but you know, she's Vulcan so her manner comes off as slightly severe.

It's a good thing I know what's behind that severity or this day could've been very different.

"No…ma'am?" I ask. "I'm uh…kind of new to the galaxy at large…"

Her brows twitch slightly.

"I can't really talk about it," I mutter.

She inclines her head sharply. "I will give you a primer once class is over, and you will learn the names of the buttons on your interface. There are programs coded for children that might work well for you."

Like kid's learning games? I perk up at the mention because I've _always_ loved those. Even when I grew up, the puzzles and the educational value were actually _part_ of the fun instead of being a deterrent to it.

"Also in the future, address me as 'teacher' or 'instructor' but not 'ma'am'," she says.

I nod. "Yes, teacher. Thank you."

"It is unnecessary to thank me for doing my job," she says in that matter of fact way they all have.

"It is also unnecessary for me to be rude and show no gratitude for what your tutelage affords me," I reply.

She hums. "Just so, I suppose. Now begin again at the first exercise. Alitta pr'ice'a," she says to my little neighbor. The slightly reptilian kid to my left. "Help your partner to find the buttons."

The small alien nods and leans over to look at my holopad with seriousness written all over her face.

It's adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you guys just hate when people try to make characters like Spock and Data 'more human' by giving them different behaviors or implying that they need to learn to 'loosen up' and accept physical affection and like it and it's like... you know they're not TRYING to imply that touch-repulsed, emotionally distant, neurodivergent people don't act human but like, that's kinda where the tropes came from to begin with?
> 
> Just to clarify I don't think Spock or Data are Touch-repulsed. I think Spock is reticent with contact for people he doesn't know well and Data is puzzled by it, mostly. I just wanted to put that in there because sometimes people portray them as touch repulsed and 'needing to learn to like it' and I hate that shit.


	5. Kirk POV, McCoy POV

All the usual reports end up in my hands as they're supposed to.

But one of them stood out.

I was a good captain and left it for last, as I doubted it was as time-sensitive as my other reports tended to be.

Now that it's in front of me, though…

' _Spock…I don't know if this is your usual tendency to be very serious about a job and go overboard…or yet another indication of how important this woman is, somehow._ '

The report is so thorough, I suspect I could submit it to a board and have it ruled a fine research paper.

Mica apparently has issues with certain tactile sensations and difficulty focusing. Spock recommends finding jobs for her to do that will take a few minutes at most so that she can focus on them and then move on. And never to ask her to handle any kind of fabric as it causes 'stress levels so high that it caused Doctor McCoy to censure me'.

Oh I can just imagine Bones laying into Spock about forcing his new Ensign into uncomfortable situations. I wonder how he reacted when he realized it was because she was handling fabric?

Aside from the medical and psychological evaluations, there is also the psychosocial report that Spock saw fit to include.

'Perfectly rational even during bouts of extreme emotional distress, but has trouble gathering her faculties when she makes small mistakes' among other things.

Either this woman is a chatterbox or this is the information that Spock has had about this woman all along that he was never allowed to tell anyone about.

Judging by the way she seems to have no experience with our technology and how mystified she is by alien species…I've begun to wonder if time travel isn't involved somehow.

If so, then it's no small wonder Spock was so tight-lipped and made no small reference to court martialing if he should speak out about it.

I wonder when he would've met her, and why she seemed to know him but also…not recognize him. Almost as if he was a name she knew to look for, but his face was different than she expected.

Spock has her in children's courses and some of the reports on my desk are from her instructors.

Holocoding- involved and studious, logical and rational. Good student.

Not much that the instructor has to say aside from the positive, which I'll consider good news.

And then there's the rest.

Computing and maths- is so frustrated with equations in her homework that 'have no purpose' that she may spontaneously burst into tears.

Apparently that particular teacher had to use some examples from real-life occurrences on the ship just to get her to be able to do the normal exercises.

There's an appended note from Spock underneath as everything goes through him before it does me where it concerns Mica.

'Mica has a highly ordered mind. From what I have been able to gather, she cannot do something that serves no purpose. Or rather she can, but it will cause her extreme stress. The doctor is prescribing her the correct medicines and she is taking them. Recommending grace period.'

Art Teacher says… 'A delightful sense of whimsy and an extremely creative spirit are being hampered by perfectionism.'

Another note. 'She struggles with self-esteem, not perfectionism. What she creates will never be good enough, because she has created it. Recommending her art instructor stop placing expectations and allow free exploration. She does not require structure in her artistic pursuits. Only the illusion of it.'

Where did he learn that, I wonder? Did they meet during his schooling years, perhaps? A teenage or young adult Spock going to high school or college and sworn to secrecy about this strange woman out of time?

During the academy?

I can't see any context other than a classroom for these things he knows. But perhaps I'm jumping the gun.

Starfleet may say Spock can't tell me. But they never said anything about figuring it out. They never do.

Well. So long as nobody's breaching the law or protocol to get to the answer, anyway.

I try to balance my curiosity with healthy helpings of respect and courtesy as well as decorum and responsibility.

After all, if you get to an answer at the cost of all your relationships and the good will others afford to you, of what _value_ is that answer, anymore?

* * *

Doctor McCoy POV

This is becoming a problem.

I watch as Ensign Hardwell walks to a corner and sits at an unoccupied table. Only to be joined by others who wish to socialize- and then leaves for another unoccupied table.

She's been doing this all lunch hour. Mostly eating but also reading on her datapad.

Part of me sympathizes. She wants peace and quiet to study.

But the doctor in me sees an issue that needs solving. I know her mental illnesses and neurodivergence make life hard on her in many ways- but any human that doesn't have sufficient social bonding skills is more at risk for health issues. Not to mention how it may be exacerbating her depression.

Lieutenant Uhura walks over to her table and sits across from her, also holding a datapad and Hardwell stays where she is. I don't think she's even noticed.

Then Sulu takes a seat two down from her with Chekov and they proceed to have a very spirited conversation with each other as if she isn't there.

When I notice Spock come into the room, my attention zeroes in on him. Can't help it. The way he's been taking an interest in this whole thing and how he seems involved- sends my mind a'whirrin'.

For his part, he doesn't notice Mica until he goes to sit down, but immediately occupies the seat next to her, in between she and Sulu. Almost as if to serve as a buffer.

I see tension that I hadn't noticed in the line of her shoulders, suddenly dissipate.

She relaxes and glances to the side for the first time since anyone sat with her. But she smiles and goes back to her work. Absently, like she's not really paying attention.

I still think she needs more social skills, but I'll take it.


End file.
